


Two Different Souls

by ForeverOptimistic



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics)
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-08 01:38:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeverOptimistic/pseuds/ForeverOptimistic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An ongoing collection of short drabbles delving into the relationship between Superman and Batman. No definite timeline; crosses over between comics, TV, and movie verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ongoing work. This project has no minimum or maximum number of chapters, I'll simply update when the muse strikes.

He always has that goofy grin on his face when he's on the phone. The normally stoic Superman grins and whispers and gets that dreamy look in his eyes, and Bruce just doesn't understand it. He's the most powerful man in the world and yet a simple phone call reduces him to this. When Clark hangs up, Bruce pretends he wasn't staring at him like he was a puzzle he couldn't quite figure out.

When Clark turns around and they're facing each other, there's a long silence in which both men are trying to figure out what to say next. Clark knows Bruce was staring and scrutinizing him. Bruce knows that Clark knows.

"You wouldn't understand," Clark suddenly blurts out.

"Lois?" Bruce asks in a grunt.

"Yup," Clark responds and he's smiling.

After a pause, Bruce sighs and begins to turn away.

"You're right, I'll never understand."

Lois was loud, bossy, blunt and most of all, she was a pain in Bruce's side. How Clark could agree to spend a great portion of his life with the woman was beyond him. Why would he want to marry her when he was the quietest, most gentle person he knew? Lois would corrupt him, Bruce was sure of it.

"Come on, she's an acquired taste, yes, but you're really not giving her enough credit."

"And I'm not going to."

"Bruce."

"Clark."

Clark sighs because he knows this conversation isn't going anywhere. Bruce agrees and stalks away from him.


	2. 2

It wasn't always going to be easy; he had been well aware of that when he decided to go into the superhero business.

He also wasn't stupid; he wasn't so far removed as everyone thought he was. He knew the world wasn't black and white because there were great big gaping grey areas that he would never really understand. Because he knew they existed, he also knew Bruce had a knack for using them to his advantage. If he didn't know any better, Clark may have thought Bruce often fought for the other side.

But that was the thing with Bruce. He did things following no one else's rules but his own and everybody just had to suck it up and live with it. Well Clark was getting tired of sucking it up.

This latest issue, a disagreement about how best to handle a senator's indiscretions, had really put the two men at odds. Clark wanted to give the senator a chance to defend himself, explain the situation and have a fair trial. Bruce wanted to air out all of his dirty laundry with zero explanations for a public execution.

Bruce thought Clark was being naïve and was gullible to political figures at every level. Clark thought Bruce was being an arrogant ass.

Clark held a firm belief that it wasn't up to the superheroes to decide these matters. There were rules, procedures to be followed; a justice system. Bruce preferred to incur his own justice to set an example to those who would try and make the same mistakes.

Nope. Clark always knew it wasn't going to be easy. But when had he ever taken the easy road?


	3. 3

It was amazing how effortlessly Superman turned into Clark Kent. One moment the big man in red and blue would stand tall and confident, while the next he was slouched and looked meek. Bruce understood why it was necessary; Superman refused to wear a mask. He didn't think the people of Metropolis or the world could trust a man that hid his face behind a mask. If Bruce didn't know Clark better, he'd think he was making a jab at Batman when he said that.

But he had a point. The people of Gotham didn't trust the Batman and Bruce didn't really care either way. He didn't need them to trust him when he did most of his work under the cover of darkness. Clark once told him that he didn't like working with him in Gotham because the city was made of lead and there were too many dark corners, even with his x-ray vision. Bruce liked to think that Clark didn't like Gotham because the people were different. They didn't delude themselves into thinking that their city could be anything more than what it already was. They didn't believe too much in change. Metropolis was the City of Tomorrow; they were all about change.

Just as Clark had his misgivings about Gotham, Bruce had his misgivings about Metropolis. The city was too bright, the buildings too smooth. He could never make a quiet landing anywhere without being in some sort of spotlight and he was hard pressed to find a sour looking gargoyle to perch atop of when he needed to look over the city.

So when they walked into a brightly lit diner in the middle of the day in uptown Metropolis, Bruce wasn't really surprised to see where his good friend had brought him for lunch. It was such a Clark thing to do; such a Superman thing to do. The diner was aptly named the All American Eat & Greet and it was almost enough to get a chuckle out of him. Clark sat across the booth from him, fixing his glasses with one finger, fidgeting with his tie with his other hand, knocking over a glass of water purposefully to make it look accidental. It was all part of the act that would keep anyone from connecting the dots.

"Not my first choice for a quick bite, but when in Rome, right?' he commented to Clark.

"The patty melt is worth the trip from Gotham alone," he responded while looking at his oversized menu.

Bruce knew he wouldn't bait him with his sarcasm and he was fine with that. Clark was one of the few people that could take jabs without getting bent out of shape.

"So what's with the lunch meeting? I thought that's why we had a multibillion dollar space station. It has a conference table and everything."

"This isn't work related," Clark responded and Bruce noticed he wouldn't look at him.

"I see."

The silence dragged on for a few more minutes but Bruce wasn't going to ask what the meeting was about; he knew Clark would get to the point eventually. Before long, Clark finally looked up at him and the look in his eyes was enough to make Bruce regret asking.

"I was thinking about asking Lois to marry me and I needed someone's advice. And by that I don't mean that I need you to talk me out of it. I mean that I need you to help me with the logistics. How do I know what ring to get her? How will I even know if she'll like it? What if she says no? What if my double life is too much for her and she turns me down?"

Not what Bruce was expecting. Not what he was expecting at all. He'd known Clark for the better part of two years and he had never seen him so flustered before. He knew what Lois Lane did to the man but the rambling…it was a side of Clark Kent he was not prepared for.

"Clark," he tried to interject, but he was on a roll.

"It's not like she's been dropping hints or anything but I want to do this. I want to start a life with her. What do you think? Do you think it's too soon? Do you think it's a good idea?"

He waited until he was sure Clark was done before formulating a reply. Just because their meeting wasn't going as he expected didn't mean that the idea of Clark wanting to settle down with the woman he was in love with had come out of left field. Clark was traditional; that's just how he was raised.

"She'll want a nice ring but nothing too fancy. I have never seen her wear any jewelry aside from the few trinkets you've given her over the years and I don't see her wanting anything that will weigh her down. She'll say yes because it's you. She's been in love with you almost as long as you've been in love with her and she'd be crazy to use your double life as an excuse to say no. Ask her somewhere that means something to the two of you. Whether it is the farm or the Daily Planet building, it should have some significance in your lives."

Clark stared at him with a little bit of shock and a lot of relief. He knew what Clark was thinking. Bruce didn't like Lois too much and he would probably never understand how she and Clark were so good together. But it wasn't up to him to tell him how to lead his life. He learned pretty quickly that Lois Lane and Clark Kent were a package deal. As long she helped him keep his secret and their personal lives didn't interfere with anything else, he didn't have much to say on the matter.

"Okay. Alright," Clark finally said.

With those simple words, he sat up a little straighter and the line between Clark Kent and Superman became a little blurry. Bruce cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow at the man across from him and waited for the slouch to return and the goofy smile he was prone to displaying in public.

"Lunch is on me then, yeah?" Clark asked and Bruce rolled his eyes.

It really was amazing how quickly he turned it off and on.


	4. 4

Five years.

It had been five years since he had gone off planet on a crazy mission to find out if the remnants that scientists had reported were pieces of the planet Krypton. Five years since he left earth with every expectation that he would find his people alive and well, and five years since he left his human life behind.

He had found nothing, of course. Krypton was too far away for any satellite on Earth to detect any sort of activity but he had had hope. Hope that some of the most intelligent people on Earth could be correct in their assumptions. Hope that he would be able to reunite with his true family. Hope that later shattered his heart and left him feeling empty in a way he had never felt before.

He knew going back to earth would not be easy. He had left Clark Kent behind, telling only the few people he trusted most with his intentions. Lois, whom he had shared everything with and whom he had only a month prior to leaving asked to marry him. His mother, who was living on the farm in Smallville by herself and would have only the company of her neighbors and close friends while he was away. And of course, Bruce, who knew him as much as he knew himself and who understood why he needed to take the long trip when no one else could comprehend his intent.

Now, standing atop the Daily Planet building and contemplating what his next move was, he not only heard when he arrived, but he felt his presence the moment he touched down behind him.

"I thought we were under an agreement that we would not show up in the other's city without alerting one another. It was your rule after all."

Bruce didn't make a sound but Clark could imagine the smirk on his face.

"A rule you were never capable of following, as I recall. And besides, this hasn't been your city for five years," Bruce replied as he came to a stop beside him.

They were silent for a few minutes and that quiet comprehension was a relief to Clark. He had missed those quiet moments with his best friend almost as much as he missed Lois while he'd been away and he was glad that they still had that understanding between them despite the time apart.

"I assume you're relatively caught up with current events," Bruce finally broke in.

Clark sighed audibly and thought about his reply before giving it.

"I've touched base with Ma and she told me enough to keep me away from touching base with Lois. I assumed correctly that there would be no need to contact you as you would have undoubtedly learned of my return through that mysterious way you have of finding the most unattainable information. I then caught up with other events by spending some time at the Watchtower when nobody was on active duty."

Learning about Lois had been the biggest blow to his happy return, but after much reflection, he knew he didn't have room for blaming her or for being upset. He had been gone for five years, after all.

"At the risk of sounding…insensitive," Bruce began. "I'm just going to come out and say that Lois didn't have it in her to wait for you. I watched her for a few weeks after you left and then checked in on her periodically thereafter. She buried herself in her work; wrote some of her best stuff during that time. But after about a year and a half, she tired of waiting for you. She lost hope that you would return to her and she began to move on with her life. She stopped following her routines and who could blame her? Lois Lane is not the type of woman who sits around and pines over a man; not even a Superman."

Clark nodded slowly at his friend's candor. His mother would only give him platitudes and empty optimism concerning Lois. She played to his hope, but Clark knew better. He knew, in the back of his mind, that there was a large possibility that Lois would not be waiting with open arms when he returned. He, of course, never anticipated being off planet for so long, but he had been optimistic nonetheless. He understood; he even supported her decision. But it hurt.

"Believe it or not, I'm glad she's moved on. I never wanted her to put her life on hold for me and although it hurts, it's ultimately for the best. I should have never put her in that position to begin with and I can only hope that she can forgive me once I announce my return to the world."

"You owe her an explanation before you make your presence known. She was going to marry you."

"I understand that. I do. But it won't make a difference. She's not going to drop her life for me and I would never ask her to. The last thing I want is to bring doubt into her life after she's worked so hard to move past me."

"No, she's a lot a stronger than that, but you can't just swoop in without alerting her of your return. Unless of course you're afraid of that particular confrontation…" Bruce teased.

Clark gave that notion some thought, and then nodded imperceptibly towards Bruce.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," he replied honestly.

He had taken Bruce by surprise. He didn't need to see behind the lead-lined cowl to know that his brows were furrowed in mild confusion.

"You see, I've changed over the course of five years as well. After traveling so far for so long I don't know if I'm capable of living in Metropolis and working a nine to five job on a daily basis anymore. Settling for my old life wouldn't be fair to me and it certainly wouldn't be fair to Lois. If I'm afraid of anything it's to admit all of this to her and have her believe I've felt this way all along; that I was never going to be capable of living a normal life. I don't know what I'll do if she doesn't believe me when I tell her that I've only just come to that realization myself and that up until the moment I touched down on Metropolis a few days ago, that I meant what I told her about forever."

Bruce was speechless. The two friends had always been open with each other about their lives and Clark certainly never shied away from telling him some of the sappier moments in his relationship with Lois, but this was different. Clark was opening up to him in a way that he'd never done before and it was his willingness to go there that made Bruce certain that his friend was truly back.

"She's happy, from what I've read in the papers. Knowing her, she'll demand an exclusive, write a mildly scathing article detailing your return and then move on with her life. You know she's not petty and she'll forgive you after she gets the hurt and the anger out of her system. You don't need to worry about Lois Lane," Bruce explained.

Clark nodded again at his friend's much appreciated advice and turned around to face him, shoulders squared.

"I'll go meet her now," he began then paused and quirked an eyebrow. "You wouldn't happen to have her new address, would you?" he asked and a slight blush graced his cheeks.

Bruce smiled knowingly at his friend and recited Lois' new address; the one that she shared with her boyfriend of nearly two years.

"I'd offer you advice about how to handle yourself but I'm sure it wouldn't help. Just make sure she doesn't have any Kryptonite handy; she may not want to hurt you, but she would love the opportunity to make your unexpected return as uncomfortable as she can make it."

With those words, Bruce turned around and was lost to the shadows once more. Clark smiled after him and took off into the night sky. It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't notice until after the fact that the timeline and general idea in this chapter is a Superman Returns AU of sorts and I'm kind of okay with that :)


	5. 5

He heard him enter the Watchtower cafeteria well before he heard him stand right behind him. There was something to be said about him noticing the minute details of Batman moving around any given space. He could tune out the most insignificant of noises, but somehow, his best friend’s movements were always revealed to him.

If he was being perfectly honest with himself, he would have to admit that he had been trying to avoid meeting with him since their last conversation atop the Daily Planet several days earlier. It’s not that he wanted to distance himself from Bruce; it was the simple fact that his return wasn’t going as planned and he was decidedly at a crossroads with his life as Clark Kent. He knew Bruce would understand if he explained it to him, and really, he didn’t think Bruce needed much of an explanation to anything, but he was ashamed. Ashamed that he’d left earth on a mission that turned out to be futile and ashamed that he hadn’t had the strength to try and pick up the pieces of his human life.

“Superman, meet me on the observation deck in ten minutes,” Bruce interrupted before the swish of the cape let Clark know that the Dark Knight had walked back out in the same quiet way he’d walked in. 

Oliver Queen raised an eyebrow at him from across the table they were sharing, while Hal Jordan let out a low whistle beside him.

“Someone’s gonna get a severe talking to…” Hal teased.

“Come on boy scout, you had to expect it after being gone for so many years,” Oliver said as he smiled wickedly at him.

“If there’s anything I’ve learned about Batman it’s to never assume anything,” Clark responded in a steady tone as he gathered his unfinished meal and began cleaning up after himself.

“At least you know he comes in peace; he didn’t bring a big chunk of the green stuff,” Hal laughed.

Clark simply rolled his eyes at the two as he began making his way towards the observation deck. Bruce wouldn’t go to him in the Watchtower unless it was important to the league and he didn’t want to keep him waiting. When he arrived, he noticed the deck was completely empty so he went to stand in front of the wall of windows overlooking planet earth. Such a large planet, with so many people. He wondered if Krypton had loomed so large before it was destroyed.

“So let me get this straight. You’re living like a college student right now; eating at the Watchtower, mooching meals off your mom whenever you get the chance. Do you drop off your laundry with her once a week too?” Bruce deadpanned as he, impossibly, snuck up on Clark from behind. He was the only human to accomplish that feat on more than one occasion and it brought a smile to his face.

“It’s not like that. I’m living at the Fortress right now but I miss Ma’s cooking sometimes and I already spend so much time at the Watchtower that it makes sense to get a few meals here when they’re available,” he responded after a pause. Bruce came up to stand next to him and remained quiet for a few minutes. When he spoke, it wasn’t with the harsh, low Batman voice he regularly used when in costume. Bruce’s quiet and patient tenor voiced his concerns.

“Clark, you haven’t been yourself since you came back. You need to stop being Superman all the time and go back to rendezvousing as Clark Kent. Even I don’t live in the bat suit 24/7.”

The topic of conversation startled him; he didn’t think Bruce would want to talk about his personal life in the Watchtower. They had always stayed away from being so informal in the past. He sighed before responding.

“That life doesn’t exist for me anymore, Bruce. I don’t have a job, remember? How can I be Clark Kent when I don’t even have a normal place to live? I refuse to move in with my mother.”

“No self-respecting man should have to move in with his mother at your age, Clark; that’s why I asked you to meet me here. I have a job offer for you.”

Clark whipped his head around at Bruce’s answer and his brow furrowed.

“You don’t have to do that, Bruce. I can’t go back to sitting behind a desk and making up insane excuses every time I hear a distress call. I won’t go back to that.”

“I’m offering you a golden opportunity – “ he began but was cut off by Clark.

“I won’t have you sweeping in and trying to save the day. I’ll figure something out eventually; you shouldn’t feel like you owe me something.”

Bruce stood dumbfounded for a few moments before he reached up and pulled his cowl back. His expression was disbelieving and his brow furrowed in confusion and something that looked like hurt. Clark had never seen that expression on Bruce’s face before and he hated to think he was the cause of it somehow.

"I'm not offering you a job to pay some debt I may or may not have with you. I'm bringing this to you as a business owner who's read your stuff with the Daily Planet over the years. You're a hell of a reporter, Clark. You're thorough, you engage your readers, and you go beyond the headline and go straight into the heart of a story. Let's face it, print newspaper is dying; it has been for several years now. In this media age, anyone can access any newspaper in the world as long as they're near a hotspot or a signal tower. Why not bring our services to them as well? We'll improve the Daily Planet website; we've already developed an application for smart phones and tablets.”

“So you want to hire me as a foreign correspondent?” Clark interrupted.

“No. I want to hire you as a freelance writer who brings his perspective from all over the world,” Brue replied with a smile. “You’re one of very few people who can bring out the human element in any story; you’re the only one that can reach in and have an impact on people’s lives through the written word. You’ve already confessed to me that you won’t go back to working a nine to five job, so why not write on your free time? In between missions?”

Clark mulled it over in his head before turning away from Bruce and looking out upon Earth beyond the Watchtower. What Bruce was offering him was very tempting. He would still be able to touch people’s lives without the benefit of the S on his chest and he wouldn’t be tethered to a desk. He would be allowed to continue writing for the newspaper that gave him his start and he wouldn’t have to risk seeing Lois with her new boyfriend every day. He could be Clark Kent without the ridiculous three piece suits. 

“Who would I report to?”

“Perry White, of course.”

“How many articles per week?”

“However many you want. We can divide them between our print edition and electronic venues. You get a big enough story, we’ll sell it to our international affiliate and get you more readers that way. If things go as well as I believe they will, you’ll be the leading voice in reporting, surpassing even Lois Lane.”

At the mention of Lois’ name, Clark’s brows furrowed again.

“I don’t want to her to think I’m doing this to spite her. I don’t want her to think that I’m trying to be bigger and better than her as Clark Kent. I just want to be a reporter, that’s all.”

“Getting bigger and better is an after effect. Clark, you can’t lead your life based everyone else’s feelings. I know I’m not the best person to dole out this particular kind of advice, but you have to do things for yourself sometimes. And I can see it in your eyes that you want this.”

He did; he really did. Bruce was giving him everything he could ever hope for and never dreamed of getting. He would give it a try and if it looked like he was stepping on too many toes, he would politely resign from his post and look into something else. 

“I’m not going to let you quit the moment you think you’re stepping on anyone’s toes,” Bruce began as if he had just read Clark’s mind. “Give it a try for a year, and then we’ll talk again.”

Clark nodded as his friend patted his back and gave his shoulder a squeeze. He owed Bruce big for this one.

“Alright, boss. Where do I sign?” Clark asked.

Bruce actually laughed out loud at that and began steering him toward the zeta tubes as he fixed his cowl back over his head. There was no doubt that he would make Clark walk through the Daily Planet building greeting everyone and signing all manner of paperwork before he could settle down in his new position. It was the first of many things that Bruce would do to keep him tethered to humanity without preaching about it. It was one of the many things Superman and Clark Kent owed to Bruce Wayne and Batman and he could only hope that one day he could do enough to repay that debt.


	6. 6

Kryptonite.

It was the only thing, besides himself, from his home planet that had arrived on earth and it was the one thing that could and would kill him. Fate had an ironic sense of humor and it seemed that the world was conspiring against him once again. The bullet had come out of nowhere. Lex Luthor took advantage of Superman’s inability to turn away from a person in harm’s way and this is what he got for his troubles: A bullet straight to the heart at point blank range in an abandoned building deep in the slums of Metropolis. He didn’t even have the strength to reach up to his communicator to call for help but he tried it anyway. 

One touch to his ear, a low grunt in response, darkness.

…

Strong hands lifting him off the ground.

The rev of a powerful engine.

City lights whizzing by in a blur.

A panicked order to someone unknown.

A loud waterfall in a dark place.

Trembling fingers removing the top half of his suit.

Pain. Agonizing pain.

…

One hour earlier…

 

Bruce Wayne was a lot of things but he wasn’t thoughtless. When Barry Allen called him several hours earlier and asked him to fill in on Watchtower duty so that he could take Iris out for their anniversary he had completely forgotten about, he bailed him out. He gave his excuses to the Russian model he was going to take around town that night and suited up instead. He wasn’t really into Russian models anyway.

He checked in with several league members on mission around the world then checked in with Dick and Tim. Gotham was quiet and that’s all he really needed to know. He was just settling in with several case files that needed to be sorted when a call from Metropolis came in. 

“Watchtower,” he grunted. Silence greeted him on the other end and he repeated himself. 

When nothing came through the line again, he began to trace the communicator to find out who was calling. It could be anyone really, but a chill went down his spine at the thought that it was Clark with the call. It was a rare moment indeed when Superman called up to the Watchtower for help and the silence at the other end of the line wasn’t making the situation any better. Superman’s smiling face came up on his screen, identifying the owner of the communicator, and Batman immediately began hacking into every security, ATM and traffic camera for a visual on his position. When he pulled up a feed from an ATM across the street from an abandoned building, his heart stopped. Lex Luthor was walking out of the building with three other men, each smiling and laughing at the scene they had just left behind. Luthor was carrying a briefcase in his right hand and Bruce immediately stood up, informed J’onn J’onzz that he was stepping out of the Watchtower, and took a zeta tube to one of his posts in Metropolis.

He barely glanced around the tight space before he was seated in one of the tumblers and was racing down the empty Metropolis streets. When he reached the abandoned building, he did a quick reconnaissance of the area before running in and taking the stairs two at a time. When he reached the top floor, he skidded to a halt. Clark, Superman, was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, his skin pale and clammy under the dim moonlight streaming in through broken windows. He reached him in three strides and checked for a pulse while searching his body for the source of the bleeding. Clark was breathing shallowly but steadily and his pulse was slowed down to almost a crawl. When he touched his chest, Bruce winced at the access of the Kryptonite bullet that had embedded itself in its intended target.

He didn’t have the tools needed to extract the bullet on him or in any of his bases in Metropolis; he was going to have to risk Clark’s life and drive him all the way to Gotham. He went to pick up his friend and thanked all the gods he knew of that Clark’s strength didn’t come from muscle mass. Taking him down the stairs would take too long, so he threw a batarang at a broken window and prepared his grapple gun for a quick descent to the street below. Having landed safely, he deposited Clark as gently as he could onto the passenger seat of the tumbler and then broke every speed limit between Metropolis and Gotham twice over to make it there in record time. 

“Alfred, ready the medical station. Bullet extraction. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Right away, sir,” Alfred responded, and to his credit, he sounded neither surprised nor curious about the quick instructions.

The trip from Metropolis and Gotham was a complete blur to Bruce as he maneuvered between cars and buildings and at one point flying over a bridge in his haste. When he finally reached the outskirts of Gotham and barreled through the waterfall that concealed the back entrance of his cave, he brought the tumbler to a sudden, jolty stop and saw that Alfred was already making his way toward the passenger seat to help.

As soon as they got Clark settled on an operating table, Bruce made quick work of his top, trying to keep his hands from shaking and trying not to think about how long Clark had been down before he reached him. It was difficult knowing how much blood he had already lost and more difficult still to replenish him in the necessary ways without the sun. Bruce set to work on extracting the bullet as carefully but as quickly as he could. Clark was already showing signs of Kryptonite poisoning and any more time would almost certainly lead to lasting damage. 

“Alfred, ready the UV projector, we need to get him under that as soon as this bullet comes out,” he directed. 

As he dug into his chest for the offending object, Clark suddenly regained consciousness, no doubt a result of the extreme pain. His eyes were wild, his skin frighteningly pale, and his limbs started flailing about.

“Clark, it’s okay, you’re alright. You’re in the batcave and I’m trying to get this bullet out of you. Do me a favor; listen for once in your life and sit still.”

“B-Bruce?” he asked in a weak voice.

That sound had never come out of Clark’s mouth, not even when he was playing at the meek reporter. Clark was scared, he was confused and he was trying to keep all of those emotions at bay somehow.

“Yes, it’s me, now stop squirming and man up,” Bruce replied. He tried to keep his tone light, hoping that Clark would believe his calmness even if he didn’t feel very calm himself. It was a humbling thing, holding the Man of Steel’s life in his hands and he didn’t want to be the one to let him die. 

“I’m…not the one…shaking like…a-a leaf…with…a scalpel…in my hand,” Clark tried to joke but it only made Bruce huff in agitation.

“Yes, well I’m not the one getting shot at with a piece of rock that can kill me. You try getting this thing out of the most powerful man in the world and see if you don’t have a few misgivings,” he replied, annoyed that even in his state, Clark was still trying to joke and make light of the situation.

“You’re…doing…fine. Just…hurry it up…a little…yeah? I…have…another…billionaire I have…to see…about this rock.”

“You’re not going anywhere until the sun comes up and if you try so much as to step outside these premises I swear I’ll shove this stupid bullet down your throat to keep you down,” he bristled angrily as he brandished the Kryptonite bullet in Clark’s face after successfully extracting it. He didn’t even really notice that he’d done it. He was too busy glaring at Clark for thinking he could confront Luthor after having been shot. Didn’t the man ever learn?

Clark, for his part, fell unconscious again but he had a smile on his face. He had been goading Bruce in an effort to make him forget who he was working on. He had provided the distraction he needed to keep his mind off of the fact that his best friend was lying on an operating table, dying.

“I’m ready when you are, sir,” Alfred interrupted his thoughts. 

Bruce sighed, shook his head, and put the bullet inside a lead box. He then began wheeling Clark’s unconscious form under the UV lamps. The sun would be up in just a few hours, but Bruce’s job wasn’t yet done. He needed to find where Luthor was going and if those men he was with were hired guns or major players. He had no doubt that the briefcase he was carrying held more Kryptonite bullets and Bruce wasn’t about to let Luthor get very far with that much ammunition. He gave Alfred strict instructions to keep Clark in the batcave until the sun came up. He then made a quick call to Tim to make sure he arrived at the manor as soon as he could to help Alfred. Then he called Dick and instructed him to stay out on patrol a little longer. 

He had a much anticipated meeting with a billionaire in Metropolis and it was not going to be pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to those of you who have left kudos so far!


	7. 7

[BRUCE] Tell me you’re not going to cover Luthor’s speech in London today.

 

[KENT] It’s my job, remember? I’m the Daily Planet’s voice on foreign affairs…

 

[BRUCE] We have an affiliate in London, let them cover it.

 

[KENT] It’s connected to the piece I submitted last month in Paris, why would I suddenly back out on a follow up?

 

[BRUCE] You know why. Are you planning on doing any kite flying while you’re there?

 

[KENT] It would be odd, wouldn’t it, if I suddenly took up kite flying over here with no just cause.

 

[BRUCE] I’m just saying that you shouldn’t do anything on a whim. I wouldn’t want to have to meet you out there for some spelunking.

 

[KENT] I think we both know I have a little more restraint than that. 

 

[BRUCE] I do know, but given recent events and the accident you had on your last outing, I wouldn’t want you to try and take it out on the equipment responsible for the incident.

 

[KENT] Advice in restraint from the same person who put a dent on the equipment that same night? Really Bruce?

 

[BRUCE] It wasn’t a dent, it was more of a checkup. Making sure the equipment didn’t act up the next time around.

 

[KENT] A checkup. Right. Is that why the equipment is a little rough around the edges today?

 

[BRUCE] You’re already there? 

 

[BRUCE] Never mind. It was a thorough checkup. Not everyone walks around eggshells when it comes to certain brands of equipment. I know their limits better than you do.

 

[KENT] And I can look into my own equipment failure. I appreciate the help, I really do, but next time let me deal with the after effects of the equipment in my area, alright?

 

[BRUCE] That’s not likely to happen. How many times do you go into my area and interfere with my equipment? 

 

[KENT] Touché. But really, you shouldn’t get involved with this one specifically. I don’t have an exemplary history with this particular piece and I would hate for you to start having problems with it as well. 

 

[BRUCE] I can handle most equipment just fine, thanks. Just remember what I said. Don’t pull a Kent; keep your kite flying out of London today.

 

[KENT] Yes, sir. 

 

[BRUCE] Idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few fun texts between our two heroes. For anyone confused, they’re trying to keep their identities intact while talking about the events in the last drabble. 
> 
> Kite Flying = Superman activities  
> Spelunking = Batman activities  
> Equipment = Lex Luthor/Bad guys


	8. 8

“Here, I’ve brought you something.”

There wasn’t so much as a ‘Hello’ or a ‘Hey,’ not that he ever expected it, when Bruce walked in. He simply walked up behind Clark and extended his hand. He was holding a small lead box and Clark smirked. Bruce was making it too easy.

“Why Bruce, we haven’t even gone on a date yet,” he replied and he got exactly what he was expecting in return. A glower, a shake of the head, a sound of irritation and he was pretty sure there was an eye-roll behind the lead lined cowl.

“It’s the bullet I extracted from your chest last month. I would have given it to you sooner but I ran some analysis on it and was able to ascertain where Luthor unearthed and had it manufactured.”

Clark knew Bruce had kept the bullet but he didn’t ever expect to get it back. It’s not that he thought Bruce would keep it for his own nefarious reasons, but he figured the bat would want it as a part of his extensive contingency plans against the entire Justice League. 

“I don’t need it; I thought it was understood that you would be keeping it, you know, as part of your strategy,” Clark responded with a tilt of his head towards Bruce. 

“I know you know about the large chunk currently housed in the cave already so there’s no point in acting like I need to keep this tiny piece,” Bruce replied.

Clark smirked at him and carefully took the box. He opened it slightly and immediately felt the effects of the Kryptonite. His blood felt like it was boiling, he felt stabs of pain on every part of his body and he could feel the nausea making him lose focus. It wasn’t pleasant and he closed the box just as fast as he opened it. Bruce was looking at him like he should be housed in an institution and Clark smiled in return. 

“I do know about the rather large chunk of Kryptonite you commandeered several years back but I still think you should keep this. You never quite know when you might need it, right?”

He tried going for a light tone but apparently he failed, judging by the look Bruce was giving him. It wasn’t a huge change from all the other looks he’d been giving him as of late but this one had a bit more sternness to it than all the others.

“You better hope I never have to use it, Kent. I destroyed the briefcase holding the rest of the Kryptonite bullets and I would hate to think that effort was premature.”

“Glad to know you have such faith in me,” Clark responded with a smile and a roll of his eyes. “Really, it’s heartwarming.”

“Take the thing or give it back for all I care. I already scanned the quarry where the Kryptonite was extracted and destroyed it. For a rare mineral that came from a planet millions of light years away, there seems to be a whole lot of it to be found in and around Smallville.”

Clark nodded in acknowledgement. He knew that the presence of Kryptonite on earth was not entirely his fault, but he also knew that the mineral would not exist if he had been sent to another planet. Perhaps if he had landed on a planet with no yellow sun, the effect of the remaining pieces of his home planet wouldn’t have such an adverse effect on him or others around him. The rock was dangerous. Not only because it was the one thing that could kill him but because it was poisonous to human DNA over time as well. Given enough exposure to the rock, and any human could be affected by it in any number of ways. 

“Keep it, Bruce. It’s best that the mineral be destroyed or protected by someone who won’t abuse its power. And you never know when I might encounter red Kryptonite or when Brainiac will grace us with his presence again and take over my mind. It makes sense that the bullet stay in the hands of someone I trust and I would feel a lot better if you never told me where you keep it.”

Bruce stared at him in silence for a few beats before he took the box back and put it in one of the many compartments on his utility belt. He nodded solemnly at Clark and then proceeded to take a flash drive out of another pocket.

“Then I want you to have this,” he said without much of an explanation. Clark took the hard drive and scanned it using his superhuman vision, confused at its contents. 

“What—“ he began but was quickly interrupted.

“Within this hard drive is every security code, access code, blue print, and backup plan housed in the cave and on my personal computer in my office at Wayne Tech. Included are highly sensitive and confidential files on every member of the Justice League including you and me. If I’m going to have weapons and contingency plans secured for the League, someone’s going to have to have contingency plans against me in case I go rogue. I realize that access and security codes can be changed on an hourly basis, therefore I included the algorithm I use to generate every single security code that has been and will ever be available for use. I trust that you will keep this information safe and out of the wrong hands as much as you trust me with the Kryptonite.”

Clark knew that handing a flash drive with that kind of information was a huge step for Bruce and for the Batman. He was notorious for never putting his complete trust in anyone and the mere fact that Clark was considered to be in that small group of those he trusted left him speechless. He placed the flash drive in the small pocket in his belt and reached out to shake Bruce’s hand. He smiled down at the frowning man and Bruce finally reached out to shake his hand in return.

“I would be honored to keep this information safe from the world. I’m glad you trust me and make no mistake. You go rogue and you better believe I’ll be the first one you’ll have to answer to.”

“I’m counting on it,” Bruce replied before tightening his grip on Clark’s hand and giving him a smirk. The two men shook hands in companionable silence before their communicators alerted them to a situation in Star City. The two smiled at each other once again and began making their way toward the zeta tubes and their next mission.


	9. 9

Bruce hated attending gala events; especially when they were being hosted at Wayne Manor. If the party was anywhere else, he could come up with a simple excuse and make his way out of there without too many people noticing. Playing host was not conducive to sneaking out of a gala. 

As he walked around the room, he confirmed that everything was going smoothly. He’d made sure to ask Dick to stick around that night so that he wouldn’t have to answer the inevitable million questions about his adoptive son’s whereabouts and discreetly tapped his communicator to check in on Tim and Damian. It was a big risk putting those two out on patrol together but they were going to have to get along sooner or later. Sooner was preferable.

“Red Robin, status report,” he grunted into the communicator.

“Just rounded up a few of Bane’s thugs by the docks; didn’t give us too much trouble but you’re going to have to talk to your son about restraint. Two of the thugs now come with broken fibulas and one with a broken femur. I splinted them as best as I could no thanks to him. You seriously need to sit him down; he won’t listen to me.”

Bruce sighed in exasperation at Tim calling Damian his son over the communicator but smiled at the two older women that walked by him who were complimenting the antique art in the foyer. He walked a few paces towards the entrance of the manor before responding.

“I’m on it, Red. Keep your focus.”

“Easier done when I patrol by myself,” Tim responded before the communicator when silent again.

Bruce shook hands with a few Wayne Tech board members that were just walking in before making his way outside, just out of sight, before calling his son.

“Robin, status report.”

“Nothing unusual to report. Red Robin is a nuisance, as usual, but that’s to be expected. He continues to try and assert himself over me and I won’t have it. We managed to interfere with a drug bust by the docks no thanks to him and we are now on our way to the Narrows.”

“Red Robin ranks higher than you on the totem pole, Robin, you will listen to his instructions. If you don’t attempt to get along you could be putting yourselves and each other in danger,” Bruce calmly explained as he began making his way back into the manor. Dick looked as if he were looking for him and he didn’t want to worry the poor guy by letting him think he had skipped out on the gathering he was forcing him to attend, tempting as that was.

He heard a “tt” sound over the communicator, then silence, meaning that his son heard him just fine and was not going to respond to his reprimand. 

“Mr. Wayne!” he heard a female shout behind him. He knew exactly who that was and he picked up his pace a little bit. He may be the owner of the Daily Planet but that didn’t mean that he liked all of the reporters under his employ, especially social columnist Cat Grant.

“Mr. Wayne!” she tried again, sounding a little bit farther than she did the first time. He pulled out his cell phone and pretended to be on a phone call as he made his way across the ballroom to discourage anyone else who might want to grab his attention. He was just ready to reach for the door next to the dining room, where Cat Grant had surprisingly cut him off, when he felt someone grab onto his shoulder. He whipped his head around and was met with a rumpled Clark Kent. How the man managed to look so disheveled at a black tie event was beyond Bruce, but he smiled at him anyway.

“Mr. Fent,” he said when he turned around. “What can I do for you?”

Clark tried to suppress a smile and fixed his glasses to cover up the laughter in his eyes.

“It’s Kent, Mr. Wayne. Clark Kent.”

“Yes, Mr. Krint, of course. Aren’t you supposed to be in Africa somewhere? Aren’t I paying you to work on foreign affairs? I could’ve sworn…”

“Yes, um, yes Mr. Wayne, I’m, um, the foreign affairs correspondent for the Daily Planet. I do, um, conduct most of my work overseas but you see…this gala you’re throwing tonight, well, it’s to celebrate your charity work. I’m not sure if you’re aware but the orphanage you began funding in Taipei last year is doing quite well and I was, um, wondering if I could get a-a follow up? On your thoughts?”

Bruce bit the inside of his cheek at the whole Clark Kent act being played out in front of him. He wasn’t sure what Clark was playing at but this was not the usual Clark Kent. There was too much stuttering involved and Bruce was having a hard time keeping a straight face. Suddenly he was aware of the small crowd that had gathered around them, all of whom were now listening in. Cat Grant was amongst those staring and Bruce suddenly understood perfectly.

“Mr. Grint, are you implying that I have no idea who I’m helping? Are you suggesting that I simply throw money at other countries and walk away? Perhaps you think I’m just a pretty face meant to go on the pamphlets they pass out to those who may need my aid.”

Clark had a stricken expression on his face and he shuffled his feet in discomfort. Clark was a much better actor than Bruce was, no matter what the other man said to the contrary. It was always difficult to believe that the stuttering, uncomfortable man in front of him was in fact the most powerful being in the world. It was disconcerting to believe that Superman was the geek in front of him who looked close to tears because he had inadvertently insulted Bruce Wayne. 

“No-no Mr. Wayne, I would never…” Clark began but Bruce didn’t give him a chance to continue. Clark was giving him the perfect excuse to get out of the party and not only was he was going take it; he was going to enjoy taking it.

“No Mr. Wayne, I would never,” Bruce mocked Clark and the other man flinched. “Let me tell you something about myself Mr. Greg. I have been overlooking the Wayne family foundations since before you knew what the name Wayne meant. I’m sure you attended some podunk community college and majored in communications soon after and you have some sense that you know the ways of the world, but the nerve to come into my home and insinuate that I don’t know what I’m doing?”

Bruce fake fumed and Clark actually blushed. The man blushed and Bruce was once again jealous of his acting abilities. The crowd was now larger in size and Cat Grant was up front, no doubt relishing in the heated argument, getting everything she needed for her next column. No matter. Clark wouldn’t have to hear about it because he didn’t go into the Daily Planet offices anymore and the scene would only distance Bruce’s persona from the Batman’s. It was a win-win scenario all around.

“I’m beginning to wonder why you’re still under my employ at all. Perhaps we should speak more on the matter behind closed doors, as you seem to have attracted all manner of attention with your blubbering,” he finished and roughly motioned for Clark to step through the threshold of the door he was going to walk through before he was stopped. 

Clark audibly gulped but shuffled his way towards the door with slumped shoulders, never meeting his eyes as he passed him. An Oscar winning performance indeed.

“Alfred, get everyone else out of my way!” Bruce announced before he pushed his way past Clark and down the hallway into one of his offices. 

Alfred came seemingly out of nowhere and even his stony expression had a bit of a smile behind it. They were all going to have a big laugh about it later; too bad Dick was surrounded by a group of socialites with hungry eyes when it all went down. He would have loved to have seen it.

Once the two were behind closed doors, Clark straightened his shoulders, removed his glasses and he began to laugh in earnest. Bruce also relaxed and he smiled as he walked over to his desk. Clark sat down on the couch by the bookcases and suppressed some giggles. Superman was giggling on his couch.

“You’re really something, you know that?” Bruce asked when Clark stopped making a spectacle of himself and looked up. “How the hell do you do it? You managed to make yourself an even bigger buffoon than usual without even breaking a sweat. And you were blushing! How do you do that?”

“All in a day’s work, Bruce, all in a day’s work,” Clark smiled. “I’ve had years to practice my blushing and come on; don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy yelling at me in front of all those people.”

Bruce suppressed another smile and shook his head at his best friend.

“Of course I enjoyed it, weren’t you there?” he laughed. “Cat Grant was practically falling over herself, she was writing so furiously on her notepad and the other board members seemed about ready to beat the living hell out of you. Thanks for the save, by the way.”

“Not a problem. I know how Cat is and she was never going to leave you alone until she tried to get dirt on your nightly activities. Besides, you looked like an overgrown cat in a cage. What’s going on?”

Bruce sighed and tapped his fingers on the desk. 

“Tim and Damian,” he responded and Clark’s eyebrows shot up. “I set them out on patrol together tonight and let’s just say that I won’t be making that mistake again anytime soon. They’re going to get each other killed with all of their bickering but there’s not much I can do. Damian’s too much like me at that age.”

Clark looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding I agreement.

“From what little you’ve shared about your childhood, I see how that’s a problem. But don’t beat yourself up too much about it. Tim can handle him; he’s a smart kid too. You have to put them out there if you’re going to give them a chance to grow to like each other and you have to trust them. I can always go check on them if you’d like.”

Bruce thought about Clark’s reassurances and his offer, but shook his head.

“Are you kidding me? If Damian finds out I sent Superman to spy on them he’ll blame it on Tim. He knows how fond you are of Tim.”

“I’m fond of all your boys, including Damian. Now come on, there’s a crowd of five people, including Cat Grant, standing outside that door waiting to hear you tear me down to pieces. How about we give them what they want?”

Bruce laughed out loud at Clark’s enthusiasm for getting yelled at and took off his coat. If he was going to put on a show of strength against Clark, he might as well be comfortable doing it. With that, both men gathered two chairs closer to the door and Bruce began giving Clark the riot act for the benefit of those outside waiting on them. All in a day’s work.


	10. 10

There was something to be said about a person who could remain resolute no matter the circumstances surrounding them. Superman, for example.

Clark had been working non-stop for the past two weeks and Bruce was sure that he had not gotten any sleep anywhere in between. Simply put, the world was crumbling around them. A tsunami in Japan, an earthquake in Mexico, hurricanes in the United States, flooding in Australia... Batman hadn’t been needed as much because none of the action was occurring anywhere near Gotham and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do in the middle of a natural disaster. So he stayed behind and monitored the events in the confines of the Watchtower all the while giving out orders to those who were out on the field.

Bruce had been tempted to call Perry White over the last three days and have him designate his foreign affairs correspondent with an asinine story just so that Clark would take two steps back from the craziness. He spent an entire evening trying to devise a plan but even he couldn’t come up with a credible excuse for calling Clark into the main offices at the Planet. He knew Clark was tired; it was evident in every move he made. He was still incredibly fast but there was jerkiness in his motions that wasn’t there the week before. He could still lift an entire city block over his head without missing a beat, but there was a tenseness in his shoulders that was visible only to the most vigilant observer. 

If things continued in that manner, Clark was going to end up doing more harm to himself than anyone could anticipate. The heroes were doing all that they could to help everyone affected and as the rescue efforts continued into the night, it was evident that the Justice League had made a big difference around the world. As each hero left their post to let the civilians in the area continue with the clean-up efforts, they teleported into the Watchtower, filled out their mission reports, and then continued with their own lives away from the action. All but one of the heroes had checked in and Bruce didn’t even need to check the logs to know who that hero was. 

“Superman, come in,” he grunted into the communicator.

There was a long pause before he heard a crackling sound and a soft conversation from the other end.

“What is it?” Clark replied.

The tone of voice alone was enough to alert Bruce of how tired Clark was but it would be a cold day in hell before the other man would admit to it.

“What’s your current status? My readings show that the Red Cross has arrived in your areas with enough supplies to help those affected. You stabilized the areas where the earthquakes inflicted the most damage and you managed to vaporize most of the damage caused by the tsunami. I need your mission reports turned in.”

Another long pause and Bruce was beginning to think that Clark was deliberately ignoring him. A soft grunt and a loud sigh later, Clark finally responded.

“I’m still out on the field, Batman. I’ll check in when I’m done.”

With that reply, the conversation was cut off and Bruce was forced to turn on the GPS in the communicator to locate Superman’s position. When his position kept bouncing around the globe in thirty second intervals, Bruce knew exactly what Clark was doing. He was trying to get to everyone that had been affected and he was trying to help them all out individually.

It was no secret that Clark and Superman cared for everyone around him. It was evident in the way Clark Kent wrote about them in his articles and it was evident in the way Superman interacted with them. The man cared too much and though it was never really a problem before, it was starting to bother Bruce how little regard Clark had for his own well-being when tragedy struck on a world wide scale. 

“Superman, report to the Watchtower. This isn’t a suggestion, it’s a directive.”

Bruce never liked to pull rank against Clark, but he was giving him no choice. It had been established amongst league members that Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman would be the leaders of the team and that orders given by any one of them were to be followed immediately. He just hoped Clark wasn’t going to throw it back in his face.

“I’m still working out here, Batman. I will report to the Watchtower as soon as I am able,” came the curt reply from his best friend. He knew Clark wasn’t going to be happy about the order, but Bruce would be damned if he was going to let him tire himself out and put the rest of the world in danger while he recovered later.

“I could get Wonder Woman to second my directive if you would like, Superman. I can easily inform her that you are violating one of the first rules we established and you can have it out with her,” Bruce threatened. He was being petty, he knew, but desperate times and all of that.

After a long pause in which Bruce could practically hear Clark grinding his teeth without the benefit of the communicator, he finally answered. 

“Beam me up, Scotty,” he replied and Bruce wanted to laugh at how childish he sounded just then. He cued in on Clark’s location and teleported him into the Watchtower. As expected, Clark was standing in front of him, arms crossed, shoulders slumped, eyes tired but attempting a glare.

“I hope you have a good explanation for your sudden need for these mission reports,” Clark ground out.

Bruce raised an eyebrow at his friend but didn’t back down. He walked up to Clark and gave him a hard shove. On any other day, Clark wouldn’t have even felt his hands on his chest. On any other day, Bruce wouldn’t have been able to make him move so much as a centimeter. This was not any other day. Clark was tired and not 100% alert, so the shove ended up making him take a step back. He looked down at Bruce with surprise in his eyes while Bruce simply walked past him in the direction of the medical bay. 

“How did you…” Clark stammered after him. 

“I called you back because you’re tired, Clark. Not even you can go this long without rest and I don’t think I have to remind you that you’ve been doing most of the heavy lifting at night under the cover of darkness. I know you want to help those people, but you can’t help them if you’re not at your full strength,” Bruce explained as he continued to walk down the hallway. Clark was walking next to him and he looked confused.

“You’re going to sleep under the UV lamps tonight and as soon as the sun comes up over Metropolis tomorrow, you’re going to take a trip up there and spend a few hours replenishing. The league can take care of helping out with the clean-up efforts in your absence.”

As they continued to make their way toward the medical bay, Bruce was well aware that Clark kept giving him side glances. It wasn’t very often that Bruce asserted his position against Clark while he was dressed as Superman and the shift in their dynamic was evident in their silence. Bruce knew Clark wouldn’t hold it against him, and his assertion rang true when he heard Clark laugh next to him.

“You know what? I don’t even know why I’m surprised. You’re the Batman. Of course you would hone in on my little slip out there and call me out on it. I’m not admitting that I’m tired,” he quickly amended when Bruce turned to look at him with a small smile.

“I’m just saying that maybe I should have worked a little more during the day and maybe I should have come back here for a few minutes of rest.”

They reached the medical bay and when they walked in, J’onn J’onzz was sitting at the main desk with a stack of charts. He smiled at the two friends and continued with his work. When Clark took his place under the UV lamps, Bruce spoke into his communicator to check in with the boys back in Gotham. When Dick alerted him of a situation in Arkham Asylum, Bruce looked pointedly at Clark.

“I’ll know if you don’t follow my instructions so don’t even try to slip out of here before the sun comes up over Metropolis. Bat’s orders,” he said and almost smiled when Clark let out a bark of laughter.

“I wouldn't dream of defying the Bat’s orders,” Clark said as he closed his eyes and settled in for the night.

Bruce turned away from him and made his way back to the teleporters. He would make sure Clark followed his instructions in the morning. If he didn’t, he was going to have to tell on him and Diana was not going to be as lenient as he was.


End file.
